


A Matter of Time

by LadyLibby



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance, Soulmate timer Au, Soulmate-Identifying Timers, hungover tony is my fave
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-06 16:58:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10339821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLibby/pseuds/LadyLibby
Summary: Steve awoke with a start. A baseball game was playing softly on the radio. He sat up, incredibly disoriented. He looked to his right arm.3 Years, 84 Days, 2 Hours, 0 Minutes, 5 Seconds. He’d woken up 70 years in the future.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [QuidnamInferorum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuidnamInferorum/gifts).



It was a surprise for Mr. and Mrs. Rogers, when on July 4, 1918, their son Steven was born with ‘95 Years, 14 days, 10 hours, 22 Minutes 35 seconds’ on his forearm. Steven Grant Rogers, sickly boy that he was, wouldn’t even meet his soulmate until well into old age. 

Steve did his best to not let it bother him. Ever the optimist, he believed that it just meant that whoever he would meet in 75 years would be so special, they’d wait their whole lives to find one another. 

Bucky had a different outlook. As one of the rare few without a timer, James Buchanan Barnes was basically the definition of ‘playboy.’ He saw it as 75 years for Steve to be with whoever the hell he wanted without having to settle down. The two friends weren’t really that alike when it came to matters of the heart. 

Both philosophies faded into the background when they entered the war. Steve gave up the theories of finding love in favor of striving to survive. After the serum, Steve had more women (and some men) throwing themselves at him than he’d ever thought would. 

The only person he even thought he might have a shot with was Peggy, but after Bucky fell he was far too consumed by his grief to do anything. As his timer slowly ticked downwards, he fought the good fight. His last hopes were winking out as he flew the plane into the ice. 

Steve awoke with a start. A baseball game was playing softly on the radio. He sat up, incredibly disoriented. He looked to his right arm. 

3 Years, 84 Days, 2 Hours, 0 Minutes, 5 Seconds. He’d woken up 70 years in the future. 

~

As you awoke to the blaring of your alarm. With a sigh, you sat up and yawned, mentally preparing for yet another day. The morning sun filtered in through the window and you stretched, pulling out the tension in your limbs. As you brought your arms back down it dawned on you. Today was the day. 

0 Years, 0 Days, 7 Hours, 43 Minutes, 22 Seconds. Today was the day. 

You practically danced out of bed, humming a happy tune in the shower, and getting dressed. Good mood still flowing, you slid into the kitchen of your apartment. Your best friend/roommate Katie was at the table, cradling a cup of coffee in her hand. 

“Sock slides at 7 am? What’s got you in such a great mood?” She asked. 

You grinned, getting your own caffeine fix for the day in a travel mug. “Today’s the day! Roughly seven hours to go!” With a little happy dance, you sang. “I’m gonna!” Shimmy. “My!” Hop. “Soulmate!” 

Katie matched your grin, remembering her excitement on the day she’d met Dean. The video game designer’s timer had run out about three months back when she bumped into the devastatingly handsome flannel-clad man in a diner, accidentally knocking over his pie. From that moment on it had been nothing but bliss for the two of them. 

“Once whoever it is gets to know you a bit, you better be calling me right away.” Katie reminded. 

You scoffed. “Hell yeah I will.” With a laugh, you high five her, grabbing half a bagel and your bag and heading out. 

Outside of your apartment building, the sun felt a little warmer on your face. The usual hustle and bustle of the New York street and you were swept along on the way to work, bright smile on your lips. 

~

Steve entered the Avengers tower common room, still in his workout gear from his morning run with a water bottle in his hand. Natasha was reclined on the couch, feet on Agent Barton’s lap as he drank coffee straight out of the pot. 

“‘Morning Captain.” Black Widow greeted. Steve nodded in response, taking a seat on another couch and flipping on the news. 

Barely five minutes of peace later, the one and only Tony Stark sidled into the room. His hangover sunglasses in full effect. With a grunt, he flopped onto the faux leather piece of furniture with the super soldier. 

“Good morning Stark.” Clint called in what could only be characterized as an outdoor voice. Tony visibly flinched, and Nat fist bumped her archer boyfriend. 

“JARVIS?” 

“Yes sir?” The automated voice replied. 

“Remind me to kill Barton later when there isn’t a porcupine inside my skull.” Tony groaned, leaning forward and gripping his head in both hands.

Suddenly, the billionaire playboy paused, as though coming to a realization. Without warning, he reached over and grabbed Steve’s arm, yanking it into his view. 

“Well I’ll be damned. Capiscle here is going to find love in T minus 2 hours 14 minutes and 6 seconds. Grandpa’s finally going to get him some loving!” He declared with a flourish. 

Steve yanked his arm back, feigning annoyance. Internally, he was cracking from the nerves. It was the day he’d been wondering about for 98 years. All of a sudden he was full of doubts. What if his job put his soulmate in danger? What if-

Steve’s panicked thoughts were interrupted by Dr. Banner joining the group. Needing a distraction, Steve went back to his room to change. In his civilian clothes, he read a few chapters of a book. Then he paced. 

At last, he’d never been more happy to hear the blare of a mission alarm and JARVIS’s announcement. 

“There are multiple armed robberies in progress within the same fifteen block radius. It would appear to be a gang related incident. Orders, Captain?” 

Nerves faded to the background and his calm leader side took over. The available team members were split and suited up and on the scene within seven minutes. The first punches flew, and Steve settled into his regular crime fighting rhythm, unaware of his arm. 

8 Minutes, 47 Seconds. 

~

“You can find New York City newspapers from 1950 to 1960 along this wall here. Good luck with your paper!” You said, directing a somewhat lost college student find her resources. As you re-entered the main foyer of the library. 

As you went to sit at your desk, the sound of shattering glass and screaming jolted you into action. A group of people, all clad in black and wearing ski masks burst in through the windows. They all had spectacularly large guns and spread out in a circle, fixing their weapons on you and your coworkers. 

A tall masculine figure broke from the group and approached you. Freezing, you held your head high despite the fear and adrenaline pumping through you. The intruder grabbed your personnel badge, yanking it harshly off of your blouse. 

He took the little plastic thing and went to say something to his friends. As subtly as possible, you slipped a letter opener off your desk and tucked it into your knee high boot. 

He returned to you and two others broke off to join him. He gripped you by the bicep and pushed the barrel of his gun to your back. 

“Take us to the Vermeer.” He ordered, and the other two flanked you. You complied, leading the way to the collection room. 

Your library often doubled as a collection facility for private owners. There was an auction coming up at the end of the week, and apparently the extra security hadn’t been enough to keep out a heist attempt. 

Your thoughts whirled around in your head as you thought of some way to stop this. It was highly likely that once they had the painting, they would just kill you. Your theory only solidified more as the thug’s gun prodded your back, urging you to move faster. 

As you punched in the access code to the store room door, the sound of gunshots and shouting floated down the hall. Stomach clenching in fear, you hoped desperately that your friends were still alive. 

“Hurry up!” Then there were two guns at your back. 

The heavy steel door swung open, and two of the three went in ahead of you. You put the key in the right holding container, and opened the second door. 

Two of them moved to take the painting, and you took a deep breath. This was it. No idea whether these were your last moment, you twisted around, kicking his gun up so that it hit him hard in the shoulder. 

You drew the letter opener and stabbed one in the thigh while grabbing his gun and aiming it at the other. “Drop the gun.” You commanded with more authority than you thought you possessed. 

The sound of running feet around the corner drew all of the eyes in the room. Your own prayers were answered as the one and only Captain America came to your rescue. 

~

Steve ran down the hallway of the library. The rest of the team were taking care of the various bank robberies in the area, covering up the main objective, stealing the painting. Most of the perpetrators were already tied up in the main office awaiting the police. The staff had directed him to where they had taken a librarian to get the Vermeer. 

As he navigated the hallways, he glanced down at where one of them had slashed the arm of his uniform with a knife. His pace slowed slightly as he remembered. 

23 Seconds. 

Is his soulmate a criminal? Knowing his luck, he’d have to put whoever it is in prison. Great. Shoving those thoughts aside, Steve knew he just had to do his job, no matter what. Rounding the corner, he saw that perhaps his job had been done for him…

Two of the black clothed gang members were on the ground and a woman in blue blouse pointed a gun at the third. One of them was clutching at his leg where...was that a letter opener? The other one on the floor started to rise, but with an easy throw of Steve’s shield, was knocked unconscious. 

He leapt into action and kicked one in the head before shoving the other into a wall. In what was probably record time, all three were incapacitated. 

3

2

1

“Ma’am? Are you hurt?” He inquired politely, hesitant to approach the woman. She looked shaken, but no less beautiful. She had an intelligent glint in her eye and he already saw how strong she was. 

“I’ll be fine. Thank you, Captain.” She said with a small smile. The smile dropped as she felt the reality of her situation. “The people in the office, are they ok?” She asked, moving to check on them. 

He grinned, already smitten. “They’re fine, miss..?” 

“Y/N L/N.” She supplied, sighing in relief at knowing her friends were safe. No longer panicked, she offered her hand. 

“Pleasure to meet you, Captain.” She said. 

“The pleasure is mine, I promise. I, uh, this will sound weird, but could I look at your arm?” He asked, blushing in embarrassment. 

Realization dawned on her expression and she looked at her forearm. She locked eyes with the super soldier, a shocked smile across her features. “You’re...I’m...We’re-”

“Yeah,” He agreed, taking off his helmet. “Please call me Steve.” 

She was in a surprised silence for another minute before shaking herself to attention. “I know this is a very weird time, but would you want to get coffee or something?” 

“I’d love that.” He replied, and they walked back to the office, side by side. 

~

Katie was working her desk when the phone rang, your contact ID flashing. 

“Hey Y/N!” She greeted, anticipating all the gritty details. 

“You WILL NOT believe the day I have had today.”


End file.
